


zugzwang

by allpowerfullou



Category: B.A.P, K-pop
Genre: A fucking trainwreck, Age changes, Alternative Lifestyles, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drugged Sex, Gen, M/M, Minor Character Death, Parenthood, This fic is a fucking trainwreck, Threesome - M/M/M, Violence, alternative universe, mafia, not edited
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 08:18:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5532296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allpowerfullou/pseuds/allpowerfullou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><a href="http://other-wordly.tumblr.com/post/30335713404/zugzwang">(german) (n.) meaning:</a> a situation where every possible move or decision is a bad one, or one that will result in damage or loss </p><p>aka bang yongguk is a fuck up who is always two steps behind</p>
            </blockquote>





	zugzwang

**Author's Note:**

  * For [andnowforyaya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/andnowforyaya/gifts).



> this first chapter takes place in the subway, and this is basically a real shitty mafia fic you'll see it gets better honestly this is just a twitter chat with yaya that went horribly wr(ight)ong just hang with me it gets better

Yongguk watched as the train passed him by, running his hand through his hair as he looked around, hoping--praying--something else would appear to get him across the town before his appointment. This was how things went in his life, every step forward was two steps back. He was stuck in a cycle of failing and falling apart, and there was nothing he could do to pull himself out of the whirlpool that was quickly consuming his life.

As if on cue, his stomach growled loudly, loud enough for the man a few feet away from him in a crisp suit to look over at him with vague interest. 

"You know, the soup kitchen down the street will feed you. That's what they do for all the other addicts and beggars," he said, looking away from Yongguk and back down to the phone in his palm, as if he hadn't just assumed everything about Yongguk and managed to get most of it right. 

"I'm not an addict, at least, not anymore. Usually. I'm fine. I don't need handouts," he mumbled back, suddenly feeling too exhausted and thirsty to even speak loudly. Almost as if the only thing that would come out of his throat would be sand and dust. His body slowly drying up from the inside out. 

"Alright, if you insist. But it's January, you're outside half dressed--and sweating--nervous, jumpy, and you smell like the dingy bar where you probably got your last fix. Am I close?" Yongguk took a step away from the man, trying to create a greater gap between them because holy shit, was he being followed? 

The other man chuckled, cat like eyes closing a little and nose scrunching up, "You're so easy to read, Bang Yongguk. You know that? You've been easy to read since the first time I saw you. You might remember, actually." He sat his briefcase down, taking off his outer coat and suit jacket, sitting them neatly over his case before rolling up his sleeves. 

Yongguk was confused, so fucking confused, and the sudden rush of adrenaline had him sobering up a lot quicker than he needed. He was already pushing withdrawal symptoms, the short line he was able to snort before he left not doing much as compared to the long needles that sent the sweet drug straight to his brain. He couldn't afford that, and the line he managed to snag was because of a lot of begging and maybe some shitty head? He never remembered giving it, but the taste on his tongue told him he did. 

His focus trained back in on the man in from of him, blinking slowly because the man was moving like a flip book and not like a person should. He had his drugs laced before, he knew what it was like, but there was a time and place for the shitty side effects to kick in, and right now wasn't it. 

"You broke into my house. I think it was a few months ago? Maybe a year? I don't remember, but my kid was there. A little boy. You smashed through his bedroom window, cutting yourself up and spraying glass everywhere," by this point Yongguk could feel the man breathing on him he was so close. And Yongguk couldn't even say anything because he just didn't remember. But he remembered picking glass out of his skin for days, and he had no idea where it came from. "He screamed and screamed, and you paid him no mind as you moved through the house, taking what you thought was valuable. Things that I've had for years you took without a single moment of consideration because you were so fucked up. My boy still has nightmares." 

The man's fist slammed against Yongguk's jaw so hard that the pain had him sobered up in seconds. The world was spinning, and he staggered to get his balance. He clutched the side of his face, barely registering the second fist aiming for his gut. Yongguk dropped to his knees, coughing loudly as he tried to breathe, moments behind what was happening. Suddenly, large hands were grabbing his shirt, jerking him up from the ground, supporting almost all of his weight. 

"He still has nightmares, and his mom is trying to get full fucking custody, because she said my job invited a fucking piece of shit addict to break into my home and rob me blind. I could lose my fucking son, because you're worthless and can't live without a fucking fix. Sound about right?" Another assault of punches came after that, another to his face, but most of them to his stomach and chest. Knocking all the air out of Yongguk's lungs and leaving him gasping like a fish out of water. He could feel some blood dribble from the corner of his mouth--wasn't coke a blood thinner?--and he wasn't sure why it was there. 

"Are you too fucking high to fight back? Is that all you are? An empty man with nothing but drugs in your blood? Are you that fucking useless?" the man, who Yongguk still didn't remember, had lost his elegant composure and was now seething. Face red and pushed together, panting heavily as if the cold air filled his lungs with cement. Yongguk was on the ground now after a knee to the groin, staring up at him through his good eye--the other was swelling shut--hoping that he was done. It hurt, holy shit did it fucking hurt, but he could feel himself slipping. He was so hungry and thirsty, feeling so very empty and vulnerable, and he just wanted to roll over and die. His head was throbbing--a kick to his side--and he could feel the ground vibrating as another train crawled through the tunnels. Himchan looked up, something on his features changing as he offered a few more kicks to Yongguk's sides before grabbing the man's arms and dragging him along the cold ground. 

"I wasn't sure what I was going to do with you," he started, surprisingly fine, like he'd dragged plenty of men and bodies across the ground. "But then I realized, if I'm going to lose my Jongup, what could you lose? But you're such a pathetic man, that you don't have anything. Just your body and drugs. Just yourself. You're so fucking alone. So, maybe you should just die?" 

A light shone bright in the distance, lighting the tunnel as he felt his body slide across the cold platform. He kicked and thrashed weakly, but the other didn't seem fazed. "Ah, it's been good talking to you, Yonggu. But I think your train is here."

For a moment, Yongguk felt like he was flying, until his body hit the ground with a thud, Himchan watching from the platform as the train drew nearer and nearer. Yongguk yelled, screamed, howled, but the sound was drowned out by the train's horn.


End file.
